


Fateswap Beyond

by Vox (Akumeoi)



Category: No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fateswap, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Smut, romantic smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-03-15 06:37:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3437168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akumeoi/pseuds/Vox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The post-script to the Fateswap universe you've all been waiting for. Contains light smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Days In Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hate it when authors of works with unrelated chapters don't properly describe the chapter at the beginning, so all of these will have short descriptions.   
> This one -   
> Rating: PG13 (making out)  
> About Shion and Nezumi moving into their new house in Lost Town.

“Shion, I think it’s time for us to move.”

“Mm,” said Shion, not looking up from where he was sitting extracting pressed leaves from amongst the pages of his medical books. 

“Really,” Nezumi persisted. “The West Block’s almost cleared out. If this keeps up, we’re going to be the only people who live in this wretched wasteland.”

After the incidents which had led to the fall of the wall, most of the population of the West Block had taken advantage of their situation and immediately moved into Lost Town. There were so few people left that the theatre where Nezumi worked had closed, and he was out of work again. Shion had shown no interested in leaving whatsoever, even though his base of customers had dwindled down into the single digits. For a while Nezumi had tolerated this strange reluctance of Shion’s, but he couldn’t stand another day of sitting around doing nothing, slowly running out of money. 

But Shion only shrugged and snapped another book shut. 

Nezumi sighed. In one motion, he swept the pile of books away from Shion and sat down on the table in front of him. Shion started back and pressed himself into the back of the sofa, his expression momentarily startled. 

“Nezumi, I’m working.”

“No, you’re not. You’re in denial. You have no more customers. They all left.”

“I have Tomoda and Michiko,” Shion protested. 

“They’re only still here because you’re still here. Shion.” Nezumi took one of Shion’s hands and held it between both of his own. “We need to get out of here.”

Shion shook his head, looking at their clasped hands between them. 

“Why not?”

“I… I can’t.”

Nezumi snorted, prompting Shion to look up sharply. “Nezumi!”

He sounded hurt. 

“Tell me why, and maybe I won’t make fun of you,” Nezumi said, though he suspected he would vastly disagree with whatever nonsense reason Shion would propose. 

And, he was right. 

“I… Nezumi, you know I’m not fit to live among normal people. I don’t even have a real medical degree,” Shion said, and there was a hint of pleading in his voice. 

“This again?” Nezumi said dismissively. “You were doing just fine before.”

“You don’t understand,” Shion said, with a hint of anger in his voice. “The only reason I was able to settle here in the first place is that I had no other choice.”

Nezumi rubbed his thumb over Shion’s knuckles comfortingly. “Look, I’ll do all the work, Shion. Let me find a new place for us.” He hesitated for a moment. “I’ll make it into home before you even get there. Okay?” Nezumi winced as that last line came out of his mouth, not because it was false, but because of the sheer sappiness of it. Shakespeare would be appalled. But when it came to reassuring Shion, sometimes there was no way to get through to him other than resorting to sappy phrases which sounded as if they had been composed by an English-speaking chimpanzee. 

Nezumi felt Shion’s hand tighten on his as Shion thought about it for a moment. “I’ll follow you anywhere,” he said in a low voice. “But do we have to?” He sounded pleading. 

“It will be fine, I promise,” Nezumi said. Shion slumped back against the sofa back. Nezumi thought for a fleeting moment that he would like to slide off the table into Shion’s lap, but he quickly stopped that impulse. This conversation was already tense enough without him trying to introduce some sexual tension or something stupid. 

Anyway, that was how Nezumi convinced Shion to let him go house-hunting. 

It took Nezumi two weeks to find a suitable house for himself and Shion. The several-mile trek into Lost Town every day to go house-hunting was a pain, but he knew that Shion would want a house on the outskirts of town, so at least he didn’t have to venture very far. The owner of the land happened to be a former West Block resident who owed Shion a favour, which was good because their funds were running low, as usual. 

The house Nezumi chose was a brick rowhouse on the end of a block right at the edge of town. It was two stories tall, but only one room wide. There was a basement, a kitchen on the first floor, a bedroom and bathroom on the second floor, and a tiny crawlspace of an attic above that. Nezumi chose it because of the location (far), the pricing (cheap), and the neighbours (quiet). After spending the last of his cash buying it, Nezumi “borrowed” an abandoned car – as Shion had taught him to do – and moved their furniture over. Then he went back for his wayward companion. 

On the car-ride over, Shion stared out the front windshield with an exceptionally blank look on his face, and responded to conversation attempts in monosyllables. Eventually, Nezumi gave up and stopped trying to talk to him, opting instead to drive in silence. When they arrived, Nezumi ditched the car just outside of town, then escorted Shion to the door of their new home. 

When Shion stood there staring at the doorknob as if he’d never seen one before, Nezumi opened the door and pushed it open for him, then stood aside. 

“Well? Aren’t you going to go in?”

Tensing as if he expected a monster to jump out from the hallway, Shion tentatively stepped inside. Hamlet, Cravat, and Tsukiyo, who Nezumi had brought over earlier that day with the last round of furniture (the bed), came running up to meet them. Shion kneeled down and scooped all three of them up, while Nezumi tried to figure out how to close the door with Shion still in the way. 

“Ahem,” he said pointedly, and Shion stood up and moved aside so Nezumi could close the door. Instead of going to inspect their new residence, Shion stood there petting the mice trio’s heads. Nezumi suspected he was purposefully using them to avoid having to look around. 

“Shion.”

“Mmm?”

Nezumi groaned internally. 

“Put the mice in your pocket or something. They already know what this house is like. You don’t. I didn’t move all our shitty furniture over here for nothing, you know.”

Shion put Tsukiyo and Cravat on the banister and let Hamlet climb onto his shoulder, then kicked his shoes off. Nezumi followed suit. Shion stood there for a moment, then reached out for Nezumi’s hand. 

A little surprised, Nezumi squeezed Shion’s fingers. Then he led him into the kitchen. Shion inspected the room, which contained a stove, several cabinets, and spaces for where other appliances could go if they ever got the money. When Shion found the toaster oven, his eyes widened. 

“I got that from the guy who sold me the place,” Nezumi said. “Housewarming present.”

Shion gave nod, and then looked expectantly at the door. Nezumi showed him the basement, which was where he had put the couch and the table, then led him up to the bedroom. This was the room he had spent the most effort on. He knew that Shion would need some kind of familiar space to feel safe in, so he had done his best to arrange it as their basement room had been. The bed was pushed up against the wall under the window, and the bookshelves were pushed up against the opposite wall. The centre of the room was clear. Nezumi’s personal favourite touch was the new blankets he had bought to adorn the bed they shared. Gone were the ratty, thin blankets the two of them always fought over in their sleep. In Nezumi’s opinion, this was much better.

Shion walked around the room, inspecting everything, still dragging Nezumi along with him. Hamlet twittered approvingly from his perch on Shion’s ear. 

After he had inspected the bathroom, Shion finally sat down on the bed. He let go of Nezumi’s hand and deposited Hamlet on the pillow beside him. 

“What do you think?” asked Nezumi, who could take the suspense no longer. 

Instead of replying, Shion put his arms around Nezumi and pushed his face into Nezumi’s chest. 

_Okay…_

Shion didn’t seem to be upset, so Nezumi decided to just sit there and let him do… whatever it was he was doing. He absent-mindedly put one arm around Shion and stroked his hair with the other. 

“It’s good,” Shion said, his voice muffled. Without thinking, Nezumi kissed the top of Shion’s head. Shion looked up, startled. 

“Nezumi?”

“Yes?”

For some reason – and Nezumi wasn’t sure exactly why – he felt a swooping sensation in the pit of his stomach. It should have been a very quiet, peaceful moment, holding Shion in his arms like that, but something about the way Shion was looking at him…

“Thank you,” Shion murmured. “This place – it’s a good place.” 

“There’s a theatre within walking distance,” Nezumi said, trying to ignore the things his stomach was doing. 

“Have you got a job?”

Nezumi nodded. 

“That’s good… I’m glad.”

Shion shifted so that he was straddling Nezumi’s lap, almost nose-to-nose with him. Nezumi couldn’t help but put his hand against Shion’s cheek. It was warm and soft under his palm. Shion lowered his eyes. 

“I think…” Nezumi said, and the distance between him and Shion was getting awfully small, “we’ll be happy here.”

Timidly, Shion kissed Nezumi’s lips. Nezumi pressed into the kiss, but didn’t push it when Shion leaned away. Instead, he wrapped both his arms around Shion and held him, feeling Shion’s heart flutter against his chest and Shion’s fingers clutch at the back of his jacket. 

“I hope so,” Shion said quietly. 

They stayed like that for a long time. To Nezumi, it felt like a suspended moment – like the second before a wave crashes down on your head, but for an eternity. He was afraid of pushing Shion, but he wanted… he wanted…

Shion drew back. 

“You can kiss me again, if you want,” he said, in a quiet voice. He lifted his eyelashes and locked eyes with Nezumi. 

And Nezumi did, just as gently as Shion had kissed him. Then he kissed the corners of Shion’s mouth, his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, and along his jaw. 

“N-Nezumi…” Shion stuttered in a voice of wonder, and Nezumi kissed the hollow beneath his ear, then breathed into it, “Yes?”

If Shion had had a coherent reply to that, he promptly forgot it. “Nezumi,” he said again, as Nezumi softly dragged his lips over the scar on Shion’s cheek. 

Nezumi cupped one hand under Shion’s chin and put the other on his waist, while Shion wrapped both arms around Nezumi’s back. Nezumi could feel them burning holes in the back of his shirt and wished that one layer of fabric were not flat between them. Tentatively, he played with the hem of Shion’s shirt, dabbing little kisses at his lips in a reassuring way. 

“It’s okay,” Shion said breathlessly into his lips. Nezumi slipped one hand up under Shion’s shirt, and when his fingers softly grazed Shion’s bare back, Shion gasped. A strangely timid expression, one that Nezumi had never seen before, rose up into his eyes. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, don’t stop,” Shion said when Nezumi paused. At Nezumi’s continued hesitation, he lifted the hem of Nezumi’s own shirt and slowly ran them up Nezumi’s sides and onto his back. 

“Shion,” Nezumi moaned, feeling himself shiver all over. Shion responded to his voice, kissing him more deeply and pressing up against his chest, fingers digging in ever-so-slightly to Nezumi’s back. Nezumi reached out with his tongue and felt Shion’s tongue slide against his, stealing all the breath from his already-feverish body in an abrupt huff. Slowly, he started to push Shion down into the bed. 

Shion stopped. “No,” he whispered. 

Immediately Nezumi sat up. “Shion, I’m sorry,” he said. 

Too fast. _I’m sorry, Shion._

“It’s fine,” Shion said apologetically, his breathing still quick. “I don’t want to be trapped. Beneath you. It’s not your fault. It’s just the feeling.”

His lips were shining and red from Nezumi’s kisses, and his hair had somehow managed to become tousled, in a rather attractive kind of way, but he looked almost ashamed of himself. Nezumi swallowed, feeling a similar emotion.

“It’s not your fault either,” he said, trying to hide the hitch in his voice with a light tone. “Don’t worry about it. You can push me down instead.”

Shion immediately blushed bright red. “N-no… I couldn’t…”

“Later, then,” Nezumi said, regaining control of himself. “Come here?” Opening his arms invitingly, he waited for Shion to climb back onto his lap. 

There was a heart-stopping moment when Shion hesitated and Nezumi thought to himself in a rush of horrified guilt, _How could I have been so stupid?_. Then Shion leaned back into Nezumi’s embrace and wrapped his legs around his waist, and Nezumi let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. 

Another moment of hesitation, and Shion’s lips were on Nezumi’s again, and it was with soft breath and relieved heart that Nezumi returned his kisses. 

“ _Like I said_ ,” Shion whispered, “ _I’ll follow you anywhere._ ”

And together they finished housewarming their new home and their new bed, though sitting firmly upright.


	2. Inukashi's Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G  
> Summary: Inukashi tries to track down Karan on Nezumi's behalf, with hopefully comedic un-success.
> 
> Fun fact: Juse is a real side character in the No. 6 novel. I actually kinda liked him, too.  
> In case anyone is interested: Inukashi, unlike Nezumi, didn't bother to buy a house in Lost Town. Instead he just sort of moved into a run-down one on the edge of town which didn't seem to belong to anyone in particular. He's still running his hotel. Business is booming.

Find Shion’s mother, Nezumi had said. Fine for him to say. Why Nezumi couldn’t find his own boyfriend’s mother himself was more than Inukashi could fathom. But since they had promised to pay him well for this, he had agreed to take the job. 

Unfortunately, he had next to no information to go on. Shion’s mother’s name was Karan, she had brown hair and brown eyes, she used to live in Chronos, and she liked baking and taking care of small children. Presumably, she looked like Shion, but Inukashi doubted he would be able to identify her by smell, as he often did with people or things he was trying to find. Shion had simply had too many bad and different experiences for many vestiges of his old home to cling to him. 

What Inukashi _did_ have was permission to access residential records for the place that used to be Chronos. This had been given to the families of all students who had been taken to the Correctional Facility, and it had been a simple matter for Shion to authorize Inukashi to look into them on his behalf. Given that Shion could still rattle off his old ID number backwards and forwards, it was a simple matter for Inukashi to find Shion’s old house. There was nobody living it currently. There was, however, a couple living next door. 

Which was why Inukashi, in his raggedy shirt and even raggedier pants, was now sitting on the pristine living room couch of two No. 6 elites. 

They did not look pleased to see him, to say the least. But the government had requested the cooperation of all citizens so that broken families could be reunited, and they were too well-trained in the art of following rules to refuse Inukashi entrance, no matter how many dog hairs he was covered in. 

They had given him tea and biscuits, which he was currently devouring. He didn’t care much for the tea, but he was drinking it anyway, because it was free. 

“Young man, remind me again what you need our help for,” said the man of the house. He was a tall, slightly pudgy man with a receding grey hairline, and his voice said that he was about as used to interacting with people like Inukashi as he was to doing his own housework. The lady of the house was a thin-faced, colourless woman, who was pursing her lips as if already thinking about how many gallons of soapy water it would take to kill the pool of germs Inukashi was generating as he sat on her white leather sofa. 

“I need,” Inukashi said authoritatively, pausing to lick biscuit crumbs off his fingers, “information.”

“Yes, but about what? We’re not involved with the government in any way. I have no idea how you expect us to help you,” the woman said. Inukashi wondered if her tone was always this sour. She had mentioned her name earlier, but Inukashi had let it pass right over his head. He decided he was going to think of this lovely couple as Lemon Sucker (the woman) and Dishwater (the man). 

“I need to know ‘bout your old neighbour. Missus Karan, her name was. Lived here ‘bout 8, 9 year ago. You remember?”

Lemon Sucker pressed her lips together, but Dishwater was good enough to respond, as Inukashi had expected. “Why yes, I do remember her. She had a son. Lovely woman, but not very social. The boy was a gifted student, if I recall correctly.”

“Just like our Juse,” Lemon Sucker cut in. It was clear to Inukashi that he could never compare to a specimen like Juse. The poor sap. 

“Ya know where she went off to?” Inukashi asked, deciding to take the direct route. 

“Why, I believe that her son was chosen for some special government training. She was very proud. But I suppose he must not have done very well, because she had to move out soon after that. I don’t know where she went, but I’d imagine it was Lost Town. Don’t you think, dear?” Dishwater asked. 

“I dunno,” said Inukashi. 

“I was talking to my wife,” Dishwater said, irritated. 

“Oh, that’s alright then, innit?” Inukashi put in. “Didn’t know you liked the old bird enough to call ‘er that. My mistake.”

Lemon Sucker’s eyes flashed. “I’m afraid we don’t have any more information for you, young man. You’ll have to leave now.”

“Wait a minute,” Inukashi protested. He took a big gulp of tea (really, revolting this stuff) and eyed the plate of biscuits in front of him. But he couldn’t eat all of them now, so he started putting them into his pockets. 

Lemon Sucker started forward. “Out,” snapped.

“Now, honey, I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm…” Dishwater said weakly, but the citrus eater was on a rampage. 

“Oh, he was going anyway, weren’t you, Inucashew?”

“Sure, sure,” Inukashi said amiably. His pockets were full of cookies and his belly was full of tea, and he had narrowed his search area considerably. He lifted himself out of the clutches of the sofa and started ambling towards the door.

“It’s not that way!” Lemon Sucker practically screamed at him. Did she think he was going to steal one of her silver-plated family portraits in broad daylight right in front of her?

Inukashi pocketed a nice-looking fountain pen and turned to the direction Lemon Sucker was furiously gesturing. 

“Nice meetin’ ya,” he said cheerfully. “Thanks fer all the tea!”

He waved at her and went on his merry way. 

****

An hour later he was in Lost Town. He knew that he needed some kind of additional distinguishing information about Karan to increase his chances of finding her. On the way over, he had thought about the other stuff he knew and come to some conclusions. 

Karan liked children and food. That meant she either worked at a daycare or a restaurant. Or that she was fat and had adopted seven cats to fill the void Shion left in her life. Inukashi, being an animal lover and all, was sort of hoping for the latter. But he figured it was less than probable. 

He decided to send out dogs as runners to scope out all the daycares and restaurants in town. He gave them strict instructions to not steal any food and to not harass any small children. Well, taking food from trash cans was okay, of course, as long as it wasn’t spoiled. But Inukashi had found that for some reason, it was a lot harder to get away with snatching food right out of people’s hands in Lost Town than it had been in the West Block. Go figure. 

At the end of a week of searching, all the dogs had reported in. The results: several hard but unmoldy breadloaves, six wilted carrots, a few apple cores, and two pacifiers, one slightly chewed. By dog or by baby, it was impossible to tell. But no news of any woman named Karan who both resembled Shion and could be found in either a daycare or a restaurant. 

This was not good. Not good at all. Inukashi knew his dogs, and he knew that there was no possible way they could have missed Karan somehow. Not unless she was either absent from her job – or if she didn’t work where Inukashi expected her to. But what was he supposed to do now? There was no way he could search the entire city. 

Let Nezumi figure out this mess, he decided. So far the only help Nezumi had been was to pass along the information Shion had and to get him access to those useless records. Time for him to make himself useful. 

And that was how Inukashi found himself sitting on Nezumi’s couch. This one was more what Inukashi was used to – slightly ratty, patched, probably at the end of a long chain of hand-me-downs. The rest of the room was quite sparse, but at least it was clean, which was more than could be said for Inukashi’s own domicile. The part that Inukashi was not used to was the whole interacting-with-Nezumi thing. He liked Nezumi alright, but it was just – weird. Inukashi didn’t know how to keep up with Nezumi’s sarcastic intelligence, and there was something about the way Nezumi scrutinized him with that cool grey gaze that unnerved him. 

But Inukashi’s nose told him that Nezumi was, at heart, a decent fellow. And Inukashi’s nose was never wrong. 

He was just glad that Nezumi had never been through what Shion had, because that would have made him into someone Inukashi would have been absolutely terrified of. It didn’t bear thinking on.

“So why are you here?” Nezumi drawled in that elegant and slightly patronizing way of his. 

“Cos your information’s a bust,” Inukashi said, sitting back and crossing his arms. “I can’t find shit about this Karan lady. I searched half the city and she ain’t there, so I dunno what you want me to do about it.”

“Search the whole city, then,” Nezumi said, frowning slightly. Ugh, even his frowns were elegant. Inukashi inwardly rolled his eyes. What a pretty boy. “I’m paying you enough, aren’t I?”

“Well yeah, but money ain’t gonna buy what ain’t there. ‘Sides, we ain’t got all year. She’s old, right? So she’s prolly dead by now, yeah?”

Inukashi thought he was just being realistic, but Nezumi’s eyes flashed. 

“This is not the West Block, you idiot. People don’t just _die_ like that here. She has to be around here somewhere.”

He scowled for a moment more, then slumped back and started tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair impatiently. Inukashi almost felt sorry for the guy. His boyfriend was messed up in the head. He probably put up with a lot. 

(Inukashi had not been told that Nezumi and Shion were an item. His nose knew, so he assumed it was common knowledge.)

“Awright, fine. I’ll give it another shot. But ya gotta give me the goods, Nezumi. What you’ve told me so far just don’t cut it,” Inukashi said. He looked at Nezumi expectantly. 

“I already told you, Shion can’t know about this,” Nezumi said, as if he expected Inukashi to give a shit. Inukashi shrugged in a noncommittal sort of way. 

“Not my problem.”

Nezumi gritted his teeth and was about to say something, probably an insult, when the front door opened. They heard boots being taken off in the hallway, then Shion’s voice. 

“Nezumi? Nezumi? Nezumi! Oh, there you are.” 

The good doctor himself appeared in the doorway. 

“Oh, hello, Inukashi,” he said. 

“Hiya, Doc,” Inukashi said, waving cheerfully. Shion started. 

“I’m not a doctor anymore,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s nice to see you, though.”

Staring at Shion, Inukashi wondered how Shion expected either of those two sentences to compute. As Inukashi watched, slightly open-mouthed, Shion went over to Nezumi and hugged him, then went back to the doorway. This act itself was strange enough, but what was even stranger was the fact that Nezumi – was Nezumi _blushing_?

Inukashi shook his head as if he had water in his ears. Nezumi scowled, his fingers clenching. 

Shion, oblivious to all this, said, “Inukashi, how long are you staying for? Can I get you anything? I’m making soup for dinner tonight…”

“Inukashi is just going,” Nezumi said firmly. “He needed my help with something, but we worked it out now.”

Inukashi snorted, but said nothing. He could smell embarrassment rolling off of Nezumi in waves, and knew he would have a good private chortle about it later. 

Then something that Shion had said got through to him. 

Something about… food. 

“Wait a minute,” Inukashi said, as Shion turned to leave. 

“Hmm?”

“Where’d you get the recipe from?”

Shion looked blank. “For the soup? I don’t know.”

“So how’d you know how to do it? The cooking thing? Cos I ain’t got a clue. And I bet since he’s makin’ ya do it, Nezumi here don’t know how either.” Inukashi grinned at the death glare Nezumi was shooting him. Meanwhile, Shion’s forhead furrowed ever-so-slightly as he thought. 

“I – I don’t –”

“Is this important?” Nezumi said, standing up. Inukashi figured he was going to try and show him the door or something. 

_Sit down, ya dumbass. This is for yer own good. And ya little boyfriend’s, too_.

“Shion, did ya learn it from your Mum or something? My Mum weren’t much good for cooking, bein’ a dog and all. But I bet yours knew some real good recipes, right?” Inukashi pressed. Shion’s forehead smoothed. 

“That’s right,” he said, his shoulders relaxing. “She taught me how to make muffins. I don’t know where the rest of the recipes I make come from, though. Just sort of figured them out, I guess.”

Inukashi grinned big. Bingo. 

“Muffins? Sounds good to me. Ya made any of those lately?” he asked. Nezumi shot him a look that read, “You better have a good explanation for this one, or you’re getting your ass kicked out of my house in T minus two seconds, boyo.” Or at least, that was what Inukashi imagined Nezumi’s thoughts to be. Sort of sophisticated-like. 

“Actually, I made some two days ago. Would you like some?” Shion offered.

“Yes. I mean, yes please,” Inukashi said, hoping the added politeness would smooth Nezumi’s hackles for long enough for him to get the pastry and get out of there. 

“I’ll go get them. One moment please,” Shion said. He left the room, and Nezumi immediately rounded on Inukashi. 

“What are you doing, you little freeloader?” he hissed in a lowered voice. 

“You’ll thank me later, you ungrateful arse,” Inukashi shot back, equally as quietly, standing up as he did so. 

Shion reappeared in the doorway, holding a paper bag, which he silently held out to Inukashi. 

Taking the bag, Inukashi gave the pair a nod. 

“Thanks Shion,” he said. “See you two later.”

And with Nezumi’s stormy gaze and Shion’s bemused acceptance following his back, he left their house with his delectable contraband. 

When he got back to his new hotel, he had to resist eating all the muffins at once. Shion had generously included four of them, and Inukashi was so tempted to just scarf them right away. But these muffins had been procured for a purpose. 

_We can have all the muffins in the world when ya finish this job_ , he told himself, even though his stomach was growling and all his dogs were eyeing the bag with lolling tongues. 

Instead, he waded through the sea of fur and set all four muffins in a row on the one table he owned. Then he commenced a thorough inspection of them. He sniffed each one, licked them cautiously, poked at them to feel their consistency, broke one open. He strained every sense to analyse those muffins as much as he was able, then finally allowed himself to taste just a tiny bit of crust from one of the muffins. 

It was so delicious he could cry. 

But tears were a waste of time, and Inukashi wasn’t a person particularly prone to excessive sloppy emotions anyway. So instead, he ate the rest of the muffin. That made him feel much better. Then, he gathered all the dogs. 

Holding up one of the three remaining muffins, he told them about the new mission. 

This was Shion’s mother’s recipe. Although Shion no longer smelled like his old home, these muffins had been made two days ago. Presumably, if Shion hadn’t forgotten how to make these, then Karan hadn’t either. If they couldn’t track down Shion’s mother by her job, they were going to do it by her cooking. 

After letting all the dogs smell the muffins, Inukashi sent them back into the city with new orders to track down the scent of fresh pastry. He ate the other three muffins, saving the wrappers in their paper bag in case the scent was needed again. 

And then he waited. 

The answer came within two days. A bakery. How had he not guessed? 

He went back to Nezumi’s to tell him the news and make off with more muffins.


	3. Days In Lost Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T+ (more badly-written smut. Gomen.) But it's also pretty damn fluffy.  
> Summary: Shion is still having issues, and on top of it all, now he's worrying about his body image. Nezumi decides to do something about it.

About 3 – 4 months after _Days In Between_. 

“I figured out why you kiss me. It’s because you love me, isn’t it?”

Nezumi nearly dropped his teacup. 

“What are you on about, Shion?” he said crossly, reaching for a random piece of paper from Shion’s bedside table to clear up the tea he had spilled on the unmade bed. 

“Well, I was thinking about it. And at first it didn’t make any sense to me. I mean, I’m not attractive. But now I think I understand.”

Nezumi was totally at a loss as to how to reply to this latest strange declaration from Shion. First, there was the “not attractive” thing. Then there was the – the other thing, but Nezumi preferred to not even think about that one. 

“That’s bullshit,” he said, crumpling the paper into a ball and throwing it into the trashcan. It landed perfectly, and Shion looked over at it, then back at Nezumi with dismay on his face. 

“Are you saying you don’t love me? Is that why you just put my notes in the trashcan?”

“What? No!” 

_How could those two things even be related_?

Nezumi put down his teacup on the bedside table and folded his arms as Shion spun around in his chair to look at him better.

“No, that’s not why you put my notes in the trashcan, or no, you’re saying that –”

“ _No_ ,” Nezumi snapped. Shion looked up at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling almost imperceptibly with hurt. 

Taking a deep breath, Nezumi tried to find the words which would calm the situation down a little. “Okay, first of all, I didn’t realise those were your notes. I’m sorry. What are you even taking notes on?”

“Oh, just some medical things, you know,” Shion said vaguely. It was unlike him to be so evasive about his work, so Nezumi crossed the room to retrieve the paper. He heard a startled noise from Shion and paused in the middle of smoothing it out. 

“What?”

“Just give it to me, please,” Shion said. 

Nezumi hesitated. He glanced at the tea-stained, half-unfolded page and caught a glimpse of the words ‘To whom it may concern…’ written across the top.

That startled him. “Shion, what is this?” he said. 

“It’s nothing,” Shion insisted, but Nezumi could see worry in his eyes. 

_To whom it may concern… This isn’t a will or something, is it_? Nezumi thought, with a bolt of shock. 

Ignoring another noise of protest from Shion, he unfolded it and read the next few words.

 _I am writing to your school because it has been my hope all my life to study medicine. But there are some things about me that you should know before accepting me. I haven’t got a real diploma from anywhere, and_ …

There were a few crossed-out lines below that. 

Nezumi looked up. There was a tiny line of worry between Shion’s eyes, and Nezumi thought that maybe he was biting his lips. 

“You’re applying to colleges?” Nezumi asked, going over to Shion’s desk. He started using the edge of the desk to smooth the wrinkled paper out. 

“No, I’m not,” Shion said, as if there were no question about it. 

In Nezumi’s mind, there was definitely a question. “But Shion, you can’t go on being a janitor at the theatre forever. Your brain’s way too big for that. One of these days you’re going to get so bored you start hitting people in the face with that mop of yours.”

Shion seemed to shrink in on himself a little as he thought about that. “Please don’t say that,” he said tiredly.

“Sorry, but you know it’s true.”

“Yes, I know!” Shion burst out. “That’s why I can’t apply anywhere. I’m too dangerous and unpredictable.”

Nezumi sighed. Shion seemed determined to misunderstand everything he said. “No, the part that’s true is the part about you getting bored, not the hyperbole about the mop-related assault and battery. I was exaggerating, you idiot.”

“Oh,” said Shion, but he didn’t look comforted.

Nezumi finished straightening out the paper and dropped it back onto the bedside table from whence it came, now slightly brownish, wrinkled, and smelling of tea. Then he hopped onto Shion’s desk and picked up the tea cup. It was still lukewarm, at least. 

“Look, Shion. You need another job. Do yourself a favour and find one, okay?”

He took a sip of tea and found that he had left the tea bag in for too long and now it tasted far too bitter. With a sigh, he gave up on it and put it right back where it had come from. 

“I don’t want to,” Shion said, a challenge glinting in his eyes. “It’s as I said. I’m too weird. It’s not going to happen.”

“Haven’t we already had this conversation? Like, twice?” 

“It didn’t stop being true, did it? I mean, look at me. My hair’s still white, Nezumi. That’s never going to change. My mind isn’t going to change either. It’s broken. Permanently.” 

Shion’s use of the word “broken” made Nezumi want to throw something or punch somebody, but he was trying to work past that sort of thing. So instead, he reached out and took a lock of Shion’s hair in his fingers. Shion flinched as Nezumi’s hand grazed his cheek, but he didn’t pull away.

“I happen to like your hair,” Nezumi said. “And I think that you have talents which other people will like too. If you save somebody’s life, they’re not going to care how “weird” you are or how strange you look. And you’re not -” his voice caught in his throat “-broken.”

“You _like_ my hair?” Shion said, and Nezumi was surprised to hear the note of emotion in his voice. 

“Yeah, I do. And your scars. And all the rest of you.”

Nezumi gently stroked the scar on Shion’s face with his thumb as he spoke, gazing calmly into Shion’s lovely lavender eyes, which were confused and a little bit scared. 

_Oh, Shion. Are you really free now? Are either of us?_

“But I’m so…”

“Stop,” Nezumi said, and he was surprised to hear the tone of his own voice. It was calm and absolutely final, but so very far away. He kept stroking the scar on Shion’s cheek, the one Shion had sewn up in front of him on that stormy night so long ago. He remembered the blood trickling down Shion’s cheek, so red under Shion’s pale hands. Now those hands were strong, steady. They had taken many lives, but they had saved countless more, including Nezumi’s own. Nezumi had seen that, with his own eyes. And he could also see, with his own eyes, the strength inside of Shion himself. If only Shion could also be brought to see it. Or at least to know that it existed. Then maybe those hands might shine with that healing light and strength once more. 

“Can I… show you?” Nezumi said tentatively. 

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Nezumi said, taking one of Shion’s hands in his, and raising it to his lips. “Let me _show_ you.” Then he pressed a slow, gentle kiss to Shion’s knuckles, hoping that Shion could feel on his skin all the unsaid words floating on Nezumi’s lips.

“Okay,” Shion said, and his voice was totally calm. 

Nezumi kissed his way slowly down the rest of Shion’s knuckles. Turning Shion’s hand, he kissed it twice on each side. Then he brushed more kisses against the scar around Shion’s wrist, the tip of his thumb, the back of his hand, and each of his fingers, and dragged his lips lightly down the centre of Shion’s palm. Shion watched him, transfixed. His chest was starting to move a little more rapidly as his breathing picked up, but the expression in his eyes was suspended, like he was waiting for something.

Sliding his fingers in between Shion’s, Nezumi leaned forward and nuzzled against Shion’s neck. Tilting his head, he let his lips touch that scarred red ring and dragged them along it. Shion tipped his head back and Nezumi let his tongue, then his teeth, gently press against Shion’s scar, until he was softly nibbling his way along Shion’s neck. He kissed the hollow at the base of Shion’s throat, then continued up the other side. Lifting his lips from Shion’s skin, he pressed his cheek to Shion’s cheek, then put his mouth so close to Shion’s ear that Shion could hear his heartbeat through every breath. 

“Never think,” he said in a low voice, “that you are less than _anyone_. Especially not to me.”

Shion squeezed his eyes shut. Nezumi half-expected tears to leak out from under his white lashes. But instead, he relaxed. 

“I believe you,” he said. He opened his eyes, and put his hands on either side of Nezumi’s face. Nezumi, caught off guard, wasn’t prepared for the feeling of Shion’s lips against his. 

_Mmmh_ …

He sank into the kiss, raising his other hand to tangle with Shion’s hair. 

“Nezumi…” Shion said between kisses, “I want…”

“Mm?”

“I want…”

At those words alone, Nezumi’s stomach swooped. 

“I- I don’t know… what I want… I just want _you_ …”

A point of heat spread from Nezumi’s core and travelled through his body until it reached his lips, and he had to restrain himself from moaning against Shion’s mouth.

_Does Shion even know what he’s asking for?_

_I have to control myself… I can’t scare him_ …

Even as he thought those words, he felt Shion pull him by the hand that he was still holding and break the kiss. 

“Let’s go on the bed,” Shion said calmly, as if this were something they did every day. As if there weren’t times when physical contact made him skittish and fearful, closed-off, far away. But his eyes were bright and his cheeks were flushed and to Nezumi, he had never looked more beautiful, or more sure. 

“Shion…” Nezumi said questioningly, even as he allowed Shion to pull him off the desk and lead him over. 

Shion sat down on the bed and nodded. 

“I trust you… Nezumi.”

With those words, the last of Nezumi’s willpower crumbled. He straddled Shion’s lap, planning to kiss him again and maybe take off his shirt, but to his surprise Shion lay down beneath him. 

Nezumi swallowed. He didn’t know how far Shion wanted to go, but he knew that already Shion was giving him a huge gift. Of trust. And maybe, of hope. 

Supporting himself on his knees and with one hand on the bed, he leaned towards Shion and slowly ran his other hand over Shion’s chest and ribs. Shion closed his eyes. As Nezumi’s fingers found Shion’s top button and began to open his shirt, their lips met again. Nezumi smoothly undid every button, stopping only to yank his own shirt off and toss it on the floor beside the bed. Then he immediately resumed kissing Shion, pecking lightly at his lips, then pressing a little harder, then slipping his tongue inside of Shion’s mouth. At the same time he could feel beneath his fingers the strong muscles of Shion’s abdomen, the slight dips on the sides of his ribs, the smooth skin in the centre of his chest, and countless tiny scars which Nezumi had not even known where there. Had never seen, let alone touched with hands so reverent, yet so achingly eager. 

Shion was breathing hard now, and Nezumi couldn’t help but let out a few small moans each time Shion’s tongue entwined with his. Shion was mostly silent, but Nezumi could tell he was enjoying this by the way that his eyelashes fluttered, the way he was subtly tightening his grip on Nezumi’s back and beginning to run his fingers up and down Nezumi’s spine. 

This sent shivers through Nezumi’s entire body, and he groaned, inadvertently lowering his hips to grind against Shion’s crotch. Shion gasped, his eyes popping open, his fingers stilling and digging into Nezumi’s back.

 _Shit, shit. Not again_.

“Should we stop?” Nezumi said quickly, breathlessly, though his hips were begging for him to do that again. 

The far-away look was creeping into Shion’s eyes again. On impulse, Nezumi said – 

“Shion, don’t leave me.”

Shion’s eyes widened, and something emerged back into them that looked like life. 

“I want to keep going,” he said. “But…”

“I understand,” Nezumi said, lowering his face towards the pillow, his breath brushing against Shion’s cheek. “I’ll slow down.”

They resumed their gentle kissing and touching, Shion rubbing his hands in maddening little circles on Nezumi’s back, Nezumi exploring every inch of Shion’s exposed torso. He wanted for it to be enough. But at the same time, his body was on fire. It was demanding more, so much more. To be so close to Shion that the slick of sweat between them merged into one, to feel the friction of skin upon skin, not just under his hands but under his entire body. 

Nibbling his way along Shion’s collarbones, Nezumi found a small freckle marking the centre of the left one and grazed it gently with his teeth, then licked it. At this, Shion let out the first vocal sound he had made since they began: a spontaneous, pleading groan, and before Nezumi could react, he felt Shion grind upwards against him. Encouraged, he began to toy with the waistband of Shion’s pants. 

Shion put his fingers over Nezumi’s and softly pushed his hand away. 

“Let me,” he said. Nezumi waited patiently as Shion unbuttoned his pants, then Nezumi’s. After pulling his pants off and dropping them on the floor, Nezumi helped Shion pull his pants out from under his hips. As he pulled the fabric free of Shion’s feet, he put a kiss on each of the scars around Shion’s ankles. He leaned back over Shion, who lifted his knees on either side of Nezumi’s body, simultaneously caging Nezumi and baring the most intimate parts of his body. 

Nezumi placed a tender kiss directly above the waistband of Shion’s boxers, and felt Shion move nervously beneath him. 

“Shion,” he said reassuringly. “It’s okay, Shion.”

He brushed sweaty hair out of Shion’s eyes, kissed his lips again. “Shion, Shion, Shion,” he breathed. Then he ground his hips down again, and felt Shion rise to meet him. The feeling of their arousals meeting through only two layers of thin fabric was enough to make both of them cry out. Nezumi could feel how _hard_ Shion was in spite of everything, and the feeling that had been clawing its way out of his stomach since the beginning finally pushed him to the brink. 

With another moan of need, he ground against Shion again and again and again, and Shion responded. His nails scraped down Nezumi’s back, while Nezumi’s own hands were balled up in the sheets beneath them. Shion threw his head back, his eyes closed, breathing out ragged breaths and gasps and incredibly sweet little pants for air. Suddenly, he let out a loud cry, arched his back, and came, then snapped his jaws shut and fell back on the bed. Hearing that was what did it for Nezumi. He pressed against Shion one last time, then finally let go. 

And then he went limp on top of Shion. Neither of them moved until their chests had stopped heaving. 

_That. That was enough. That was more than enough, more than I deserved. Thank you, Shion_.

“Can you please get off of me,” Shion said, and Nezumi immediately rolled over, feeling slightly guilty. 

“Sorry,” he said, so tired that his lips barely wanted to move. 

“It’s fine,” Shion said, sounding a little sleepy himself. “You can hold me, if you want.”

Nezumi didn’t want to move any more, but he knew that doing this would make Shion feel safer, and he owed him, besides. So he reached down to the end of the bed and grabbed the sheet, pulled it over both of them, and settled back down with his arm over Shion. His boxers were very wet, but he frankly didn’t want to deal with that either. 

“Nezumi…” Shion sighed. 

“Mm?”

But Shion was already asleep. 

Nezumi closed his eyes and slipped into sleep without even noticing it. 

When he woke up, Shion was still asleep and his crotch was now cold and wet, instead of just wet. So, squinting against the afternoon light coming through the curtains, he pulled himself out of bed to quickly shower. When he emerged from the bathroom, he found that Shion had woken up, pulled the old sheets off the bed, and remade it with clean ones. While Shion took his own shower, Nezumi dragged the sheets downstairs to the laundry, regretting that he and Shion couldn’t just shower at the same time. But that was far too much to ask for, especially after today. 

After coming back upstairs, Nezumi flopped back down on the bed and lay with his chin propped up on his crossed arms. Shion emerged from the bathroom, dressed in clean boxers and a shirt, as Nezumi was, and lay right back down beside Nezumi. 

This was unusual. Well, there was no “usual” for them and sex, seeing as it had never happened before, but this was unusual for Shion. Nezumi had half-expected Shion to pretend that recent events had not taken place, the way he usually did about their physical interactions. 

But he sensed that Shion had something to say, so he kept his mouth shut as Shion reached over and began finger-coming Nezumi’s damp dark hair. 

“Thank you… for showing me what you meant,” Shion murmured, his face blank. It seemed appropriate that this conversation would take place in quiet tones, so Nezumi responded in kind. 

“Thank you for letting me,” he said. “I hope you enjoyed it.”

“Don’t worry, it was fine. I’m sorry we had to stop in the middle.”

“Don’t apologise. It doesn’t become you.”

Shion quirked a tiny smile. Nezumi realised – that expression was familiar to him. When had Shion started smiling like that around him? 

Maybe around the time they had moved to Lost Town. Maybe even before, or never before. Shion’s face was so familiar to Nezumi now that any possible expression he could make felt right. Maybe Shion had been keeping this particular smile under his tongue like a secret pill, waiting for this exact moment to reveal it. 

“Nezumi…” Shion said, after a moment of comfortable silence. 

“Mm?”

Shion looked down at the clean white sheets. 

“Do you really think I should try and get into college?”

“Of course I do.”

“How am I going to afford it?”

“We’ll find a way,” Nezumi said calmly.

Shion thought about this for a moment. Then he raised his head, looked Nezumi straight in the eyes, and declared, “I want to go to medical school.” 

His eyes flashed, as if he thought Nezumi would say, _No, not going to happen_.

But of course, Nezumi only smiled and said, “Okay.”

Shion blushed. Nezumi reached out and took his hand. 

They lay together in peaceful contemplation for a moment more, before Nezumi thought of _the other thing_. The other thing he should have said, ever since the beginning. Of this conversation, of this day, of this relationship. 

“Shion, I’m only going to say this once.”

“Mm?”

“What you said earlier. About love. That’s the other thing that’s untrue.”

“What?” Shion said, tilting his head in confusion. 

Nezumi scowled, trying to force the words out. 

“Okay, look. You said that I don’t love you. But that’s bullshit.”

“Huh?”

Nezumi scowled harder. 

“Look, I love you, okay? I didn’t want to have to say it. But I do. So there it is. Now stop complaining.”

He heard Shion gasp, and his grip on Nezumi’s hand tightened for a moment. 

“Nezumi…”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I don’t think I know what love is, not really,” Shion said, in a contemplative tone. “But I think I can learn. And I want to. For you.”

Nezumi turned his head to hide his smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like...  
> You can tell this was written by a dfab person, right? =.=  
> Although to be honest with you all, I didn't want it to be overly explicit, because that would defeat the purpose. This smut isn't just here because I know everyone wants to read smut. (Though that is a large contributing factor, haha). Anyway, this is my fledgeling contribution to the world of inappropriate internet literature, so please bear with me. I hope it wasn't embarrassingly bad. I tried. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Also, you may have observed a divide in Shion's reactions to physical contact. On the one hand, he hates to be touched. On the other hand, he likes to be touched by Nezumi. These two things are constantly at war in him. He hates being touched by strangers or people who could be a threat to him (which is nearly everyone), but physical contact has always been a source of reassurance to him because it needs no words to say "I'm here with you." I hope that this comes through in the fic. I think Fateswap!Shion is probably the most complicated character I've ever written, and I don't think I always do him justice. :I


	4. Safu's Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AKA, the No. 6 Nuremberg Trials.  
> Rating: PG (for some light description of gore and disturbing situations)  
> In which Safu attends the hearing of one of the scientists from the Correctional Facility, and battles her own inability to remember the past.

Safu opened the sliding glass door and stepped onto the porch of her apartment. It was dark out, and the clear sky cradled thousands of tiny stars amongst its inky folds. As there was a slight chill in the air, the last days of winter having only just passed, she had wrapped herself in her comforter. Sitting down on the solitary plastic folding chair, she arranged the comforter snugly around herself. Atop her knees she balanced a notebook. 

Though it was late at night, Safu couldn’t sleep. Whenever this happened (and it was a common occurrence), she would come outside and write poems on the balcony until her mind had settled. Sometimes in the morning she would find disturbing snippets of dreams written in the margins of her latest poem, though she never remembered writing them down. 

Then again, she had trouble remembering many things. Though she was physically free of the Correctional Facility, a part of her mind was, and would forever remain, trapped there – in inaccessible memories, which surfaced only in panic-attack-inducing snippets, or distorted into nightmares. Sometimes Safu resented the fact that she had not been allowed to keep even her own memories of the time she had lost, but sometimes, when she woke up shaking in the dark, she thought maybe it had been a mercy. 

_I watch the sky  
but no rain comes to   
this parched valley where once   
a living river flowed._

she wrote, and settled in for a long night. 

\---

The next morning, she woke up to the sound of birdsong and realised she had fallen asleep on the balcony. This was a rare but not unexpected occurrence. The notebook had slipped out of her lap and was resting on the slightly dewy floor. Safu snatched it up with a cry of dismay, which caused the pen trapped in the folds of her comforter to come dislodged and roll across the ground. Finally it rolled over the edge of the balcony and disappeared. 

Watching it go, Safu sighed. Then she inspected her notebook for water damage, found that it seemed to have survived the night with just a few wrinkled pages, and contemplated going inside to have a shower. 

She had work that day – more than that, she had a presentation to give. A presentation. Well, it was something more than that, but it was best to think of it that way. At least there was one good thing about it – she would be seeing Shion. Ah, but now her thoughts were wandering again. 

It took Safu a few minutes more, but she finally managed to pick herself up and go inside. She deposited her notebook on the table by the door, had a shower, brushed her teeth, ate breakfast. Little things, but things she hadn’t been able to do by herself and for herself for a long, long time. But again, that didn’t bear thinking on. 

Once she was feeling more awake, Safu gathered her bag and coat and walked the few short blocks to the new City Hall, where the Restructural Committee met every day. Safu was one of the top-tier members of the Committee. Everyone on it knew her. She greeted her colleagues with curt nods as she entered the building, then made her way downstairs to the courthouse level. 

She found Shion and his boyfriend Nezumi sitting outside the courtroom on a wooden bench. Shion was holding Nezumi’s hand; Safu noted that Nezumi’s fingers were turning white from the pressure Shion was putting on them. They were almost as pale as Shion’s face itself. 

Safu knew how Shion felt. She could feel it herself, hovering at the edges of her heart, waiting in limbo to consume her later. But she was in control, for now. 

“Safu,” Shion said, giving her a curt nod. She nodded back. For a moment, a look passed between them. That was the only connection they had, the only acknowledgement they could make between each other that wouldn’t make the encroaching panic worse. 

“Good morning,” said Nezumi politely. Safu wished she didn’t have to answer him, but he wouldn’t understand. He would think she was rude. Of course he wouldn’t understand, or he wouldn’t have spoken in the first place. 

“Hello,” she managed, with another nod. 

“The doors are open,” Nezumi informed her. 

“Thank you,” Safu said. Then, fingers tightening on the strap of her purse, she pushed open the doors and stepped inside. Skirting the edges of the room until she got to her seat, she noted that the room was much fuller than she had expected. That was probably why Shion was in the hallway. But crowds didn’t bother Safu nearly as much as they bothered Shion. It was the thought of what she was about to do, not who she was doing it in front of, that was making her feel as if she might, any minute, fall down into a deep, black hole. 

_Pull it together_ , Safu thought to herself. 

Five minutes later, someone else greeted her, and she realised that she had totally spaced out. That was something she did, sometimes, when thinking was too daunting for her. It was a defence mechanism, she supposed. She was fine with it – at least she tried to be fine with it – but not _now_. 

_Pull. It. Together._

At that moment, the judge walked in. Nezumi and Shion were trailing behind him, the last two people to enter the room. They came to sit behind Safu, and the doors were shut. Safu shivered. The judge sat down.

“The court is now in session.”

It was a rather unorthodox trial. There was a judge, a jury made up of members of the Restructural Committee, a mediating lawyer, and a full gallery of spectators, including Shion’s mother. But the one person who was not in the room was the accused. That’s because the accused was a scientist from the Correctional Facility, and the main witnesses were Safu and Shion. They had feared that being put in the same room as that man would trigger flashbacks or panic attacks, as if the trial wasn’t already stressful enough. So, the witnesses for the prosecution would be interviewed first, then escorted from the courtroom before the witness for the defence was brought in. 

To Safu’s relief, the opening procedures went fairly quickly. Behind her, Nezumi was tapping his fingers impatiently, as if he were counting down the seconds until he and Shion could leave. The rhythmic tapping was almost comforting to Safu. It let her slip into a sort of trance again, so that she didn’t have to listen to anyone speak. She wanted to face reality, she really did. But it was hard. It was so hard. She had to come around it sideways, through poetry instead of prose. That is, if she could even remember what she wanted to write about.

Then Shion was brought to the witness stand. The particular scientist they were testifying against was someone who had come to the Correctional Facility near the end of Shion’s time there, so Shion didn’t have much to say about him. Even so, Safu could see from his pinched, pale face how much strain he was under. To anyone else, it would look as if he were totally under control, but she knew him better than that. She knew him so well that she felt a clench in her gut on his behalf as the questioning began, almost as intense as if she were already up on the witness stand herself.

“Shion, we’re going to show you a photograph of a man that you know from the Correctional Facility. I’d like you to please tell me the name of the man in the photograph. Then we’ll take it away. Can you do that?” the lawyer asked. 

“Yes,” Shion said, his voice ringing hollowly through the room. At a nod from the judge, a picture flickered to life on the wall, but Safu didn’t look at it – instead, she fixed her gaze on Shion’s face. For just a minute, he flinched, and Safu did too. Then he composed himself again, but Safu’s heart was still pounding.

“Saito Kensuke,” Shion said flatly. 

“Good. Thank you,” the judge said, waving his hand for the picture to be taken down. Shion barely bobbed his head in acknowledgement. 

“Now, can you tell us in what capacity you knew this man?”

Safu could tell the lawyer was trying to keep the questioning neutral, but there was no neutral way Shion could answer this question, because the man’s job title alone was chilling. “He took over as the secretary to the Head of Human Research after Ishida Yuki retired,” Shion said. 

“And how did you personally come into contact with him?” the lawyer asked. 

“He came to my cell a couple of times,” Shion said, with surprising venom. A hiss of shock floated around the courtroom, and he paused. “I – I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“That’s alright,” the judge said kindly. “Please continue.”

Nodding sharply, Shion said, “Y-yes. It’s true that he did visit me during the time when I was placed in solitary confinement. Other than that, we did not have much contact. I know some of what he did through my friends. But he only oversaw one experiment which I was a part of.”

“Could you tell us about that experiment?” the lawyer asked, and Safu’s stomach dropped. She wanted to close her ears again and pretend this wasn’t happening. But she couldn’t, because that would be tantamount to leaving Shion stranded alone on the witness stand. Safu resolved to concentrate with all her being on Shion’s words.

“It was a typical physical endurance experiment. They gave us a new serum and then they had us run on a treadmill until we passed out.”

“Who is this we?”

“Myself and the other experiments.”

“Why did you pass out?”

“Exhaustion.”

“And how did Saito-san participate in these experiments?”

“He was recording the whole things.”

“How so?”

“He was sitting in front of the treadmill while I ran, watching me. He had a pen and a clipboard. He had a water bottle.”

“Strike the water bottle from the record, it isn’t important,” the lawyer said. 

“No, it is. I asked him for some water, and he didn’t give me any.”

Shion must have been truly desperate to actually ask any scientist for water, Safu thought. Either they ignored such requests or they punished you for making them. Safu supposed that since Shion remembered the incident, he hadn’t been punished for it. 

_But it’s only me who forgets things_ , Safu realised. Then she thought, _But this isn’t as hard to listen to as I thought it would be_. Difficult, yes. Nausea-inducing, yes. But so far she’d listened to nearly seven full minutes of testimony, and she hadn’t disassociated or had to leave the courtroom. 

_It will happen sooner or later_. 

Realistically, it would be sooner rather than later. But what if she wanted to hear what Shion has to say?

Her mind immediately shoved that thought aside. There was no way she could possibly get through an entire trial of this without breaking down. Had she ever thought she could? It was impossible to say now.

 _It’s alright… it’s alright… Later, I’ll forget…_ she thought. 

And she did forget - right up until the point where Shion stood up and yelled, “I can’t take this anymore!”

Instantly, there was a scuffling of feet behind her as Nezumi stood up and several people moved towards the witness box, where Shion was sitting with his head in his hands. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this. Please don’t make me,” he wailed. Safu’s gaze fell upon Karan, who had her hand pressed over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock.

“I – uh –” the lawyer stuttered. 

“This court is adjourned,” the judge announced, hitting the gavel. Then he gestured to Shion, but Nezumi was already by Shion’s side, letting Shion wrap his arms around his neck and bury his face in the front of his shirt, hoisting him out of the witness box and taking him away. Meanwhile, Safu was sitting shell-shocked in the stands, trying to figure out what had just happened. What had Shion been talking about? She strained to remember, but she couldn’t. The last thing she remembered was thinking about how she was about to forget.

_Why do I want to know so badly? And why… why can’t I remember?!_

Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, Safu stood up. Several heads turned towards her, and she shuddered in embarrassment. Without thinking about it, she made a dash for the door. 

Outside, she sank down on the bench Nezumi and Shion had been sitting on that morning. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, bouncing around her skull like a hive of angry bees. 

_Why do I – Why can’t I – But Shion was – I want – No – How can I –_

Taking her head in her hands, Safu tried to calm her frantic breathing. _What is this?_ A panic attack? But how could it be, when she hadn’t had one in so long? What had triggered it, when she hadn’t even heard Shion’s words? 

Safu wanted to scream in frustration, but all she could do was let out a pathetic, pained moan and clutch at her head, bodily rocking back and forth. 

It took her several minutes of sitting there rocking with her eyes closed, but she finally managed to calm herself to the point of sitting still, though her heart was still racing. With trembling hands, she pulled a piece of paper and a pencil from her bag, and wrote the following lines:

_once again I hear the music but still  
my head and heart are like two broken drums  
and my voice too raw to sing_

She sat there for another long time, sat there until her heart had calmed and her mind had gone quiet again. 

Or was it really?

Before she could think about the ramifications of this question, someone walked into the hallway in front of her. Looking up, she saw that it was Nezumi. As she vaguely wondered why he was there, he spoke. 

“Safu.”

“Hello?” she said uncertainly. And Nezumi scowled at her – actually scowled at her. She shrank back in her seat, and then he shook his head and sighed. 

“It’s no use,” he said. 

“Huh?” Safu asked.

“It’s no use,” Nezumi repeated more harshly, and Safu could read in his body language that he was under a lot of stress.

“What isn’t?”

“Me talking to Shion. I wanted to help calm him down, but there was nothing I could do. We just had to wait it out.”

For a moment, a flash of jealousy shot through Safu. At least Shion had Nezumi to wait beside him while he rocked and cried. Unlike her. She had sat on this bench alone, with only her trusty notebook beside her. And that was basically like sitting with herself.

“Maybe if I knew what to say, he wouldn’t be like this,” Nezumi continued. Then he paused and looked at Safu again. "But I can’t understand him like that. You can.”

It took a moment for this to sink in. 

“I – I can’t,” Safu said timidly, shaking her head. 

Nezumi sighed. “Yeah, he can’t either. That’s the fucking problem. Look, I’d love to stick around and chat with you, but I have to go tell those fuckwads in the courtroom that letting a guy with no outlet for his emotional issues testify about them in public was a really braindead move.” Giving her a nod, he marched back into the courtroom. As he left, Safu heard him whisper, “I knew this was a bad idea.”

For some reason, seeing Nezumi just now had made Safu’s headache worse. She didn’t stick around to see if the trial would continue or not, but walked out of the courtroom and left. 

\---

Later that night, Safu was once again sitting on her balcony, feeling completely out of sorts. It was cloudy and cool, a light breeze blowing. A fat wet drop of rain fell on Safu’s head, but she didn’t notice. As the clouds in the sky swirled restlessly overhead like a herd of skittish horses, she tried to pen a quick poem to help her get the events of the day out of her subconscious and into concrete reality. 

_My heart splits in two_

No, too cliché.

_A flower wilts and falls_

No, too vague.

_One drop casts a shadow_

That didn’t even make any sense!

Safu threw down her pencil so hard it rolled off the edge of the table and fell over the balcony. Safu nearly screamed in frustration. How many pencils had rolled off the edge of this balcony? How many times had that trivial, irritating scene repeated? How many more times would it repeat in the future? She couldn’t afford to keep buying pencils, for goodness sake! How many more times would she forget something, then wish she could remember it? How many more times would she close her eyes and reach into the blackness for a scene that wasn’t there? She was stuck in an endless loop, and Safu wanted _out_.

Throwing down her blanket and kicking back her chair, Safu began to pace the balcony like Shion used to pace his cell. Shion. Was Shion’s situation really as bad as all this? Was he living like this too? Nezumi had implied it was true, but Safu hardly knew whether to believe it. How could anyone go on like this? How could _she_ go on like this?

As the rain began to pick up, a flash of memory shot across Safu’s mind like lightning. 

_Kneeling on the floor of her cell, cowering, trying to shrink into a tiny ball to get away from the hands that were reaching through the bars from the neighbouring cell. ‘Get away from me!’ she wailed, but the other experiment didn’t listen, but stared at her with hungry eyes. As soon as she fell asleep, he’d reach for her again. ‘I mustn’t go to sleep; I mustn’t go to sleep,’ Safu told herself, rocking back and forth. How could anyone go on like this?_

As the memory passed, Safu cried out and clutched at her head. What was that? How had she remembered that? Clawing at her hair, she shook her head and tried to get the memory out. _Go away! Go away! Forget! Forget!_

But then she froze, still clutching her head in her hands and gasping slightly. She had remembered something. She had thought she was incapable of that. What – what did it mean?

Safu knew the answer. She knew it. She had always known it. But she couldn’t articulate it. No, that would be bad. It would be very bad. Because if it were okay to admit that – if it were okay to say – if she could just – 

_No!_

The cold rain dropped heavily onto the balcony, but Safu couldn’t move. Putting one hand down on the ground she slowly sank into a crouch, her knees shaking. Rain pelted her back and trickled down her neck in icy cold streams as the wind whipped her short-cropped hair around her face and into her eyes. 

It took her several minutes to realise the rain felt warm only on her face because she was crying. 

That day… on the witness stand… Shion had looked so far away. The time he had spent living in the West Block had put a huge gap between them, one which she had never thought to bridge. So she had watched him from afar, thinking, ‘I am alone, and it will always be so.’ She had let him stand there alone and speak, knowing that he couldn’t handle it. Maybe she couldn’t either, but she would never know – because she wasn’t even trying.

_How can I do this to him? I can’t hide behind him like this – I can’t make him bear this burden alone._

“But I can’t! I can’t remember!” Safu’s voice was anguished, choking, raw. The rain beat down. 

Another flash of memory struck. And then another, and then another.

_Shion, crying his eyes out as he drank a scientist’s foul concoction.  
Herself, shrinking away from a white-gloved hand.   
A body, stone cold and rigid, in the cell next to her when she woke up in the morning.   
The smell of rot.  
The face of the man at the trial that morning – leaning over her, smiling in a way she did not like at all. _

Safu whimpered. 

“I can remember. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to.”

And there was the heart of the matter. Safu would never remember everything that had happened to her in the Correctional Facility. She would never be able to register and remember everything that happened to her in a day. The fact was, her brain had been forever altered by what she had gone through. But. She was using this disability as some kind of shield, using her own bad memory as a way to forget things before they could even register. Instead of facing the present and the past and trying to learn and grow, she had frozen herself in time – in the time of the Correctional Facility. In a sense, she was continuing the work done on her by other hands. 

At the conclusion of this realisation, Safu sat back on her heels and looked up at the sky. She felt her body shaking violently, as it couldn’t contain all the horrible emotions trapped within it. The wind howled and swept violently around her, whipping her hair into her eyes and roaring in her ears. 

Staring straight into the drops of cold rain falling from the sky, Safu screamed. “ _Fine! I will!_ ”

\---

The next morning Safu picked herself off and her drenched writing notebook off the balcony, ate breakfast, and left the house. The trial was going on again today, and nobody had told her it was cancelled, so she was going. Today she would surely have to testify. When she first set off, she didn’t know how to feel about that.  
As she walked into the court building, the night before came back to her in a flash. Not only did she remember the memories she had remembered, but she also remembered the conclusion she had come to, and she stopped dead in her tracks. 

Before she could panic over it again, a voice called her name. 

“Morning, Safu.”

It was Nezumi, sitting on his bench with Shion again. Shion still looked like he wanted to throw up, but he was there. And in spite of Nezumi’s words yesterday – he didn’t seem to resent Safu for abandoning the courtroom early. Or at least, he had forgiven her for it. Safu peered at him as if seeing him for the first time. 

“Hello?” she said. Shion nodded at her, and Safu, startled, nodded back. For a moment, she hesitated, trying to think of something to say, trying to think of a way to reach out to them both. But she had barely had any human contact in… years. Nothing came to mind. 

Fortunately, Nezumi nodded at her again. “Go on, Safu. We’ll be alright. We’ll see you in the courtroom.”

Briefly, Shion turned his head and exchanged a glance with Nezumi, and Safu had a weird feeling that Nezumi had been speaking not for himself, but for Shion. But she wouldn’t know that for sure unless she got to know him better, unless she got re-acquainted with Shion again. The prospect of doing that was… well, Safu didn’t know how to feel about it. If she thought about it too much, she began to get that tight, hollow feeling in her gut that always accompanied the start of a panic attack. She forced the feeling down. 

_I’ll worry about that later._

A sly part of her mind whispered, _Are you trying to make yourself forget again, Safu?_

_No!  
Maybe it’s easier to forget, but I must remember. It hurts to remember, but it costs so much to forget._

Squaring her shoulders, Safu clutched her somewhat damp writing notebook under her arm and marched into the courtoom. Well, perhaps to an outsider, it would look as if she were sidling in as quietly and timidly as always. But in her mind, Safu knew that this courtroom was not a cellblock. In this room, she would see and hear and be reminded of things that were better left buried, that should never have happened in the first place. She wouldn’t be handle all of it – she was still broken and fragile, and that might never change. But she was also resilient. 

_If I go on like this, I’ll be like this forever. Even though it’s hard, I must try to remember. It will hurt, but so does living every day like this. I am stronger than this._

When the time came, Safu would open her mouth to speak the truth – or the truth as she remembered it. And this truth, her truth, was a song sweeter than any poetry in the world. 

\--

_at last the rain falls  
and my heart rejoices in its sweetness  
for I know the drought has ended at last._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. Gog. Writing this chapter was like pulling teeth. Not only was I interrupted in the middle by some _serious_ burnout, but Safu is so freaking hard to write it is _unreal_.   
>  I struggled with a lot of issues while writing this, including that I was having a hard time determining the direction this chapter would take. It's been a wild ride from start to finish. To those of you who are still reading even after all this time, thank you.   
> I also want to say this: This ficlet represents 2 days in Safu's life. I am sure that it must seem like a fast turnaround, given the magnitude of the problems she is facing. I absolutely don't want to make dealing with such mental health issues seem simple and accidentally minimize someone's struggles. I hope I made it clear in the fic that she will continue to have these problems in the future, but thanks to this incident she now has both a better understanding of what her problems are and above all, she now has hope. 
> 
> To anyone dealing with a mental health issue, I hope that your problems aren't as big as Safu's are. But no matter how bad they are, please know that there is hope for you, too. Things don't get better gradually, but in fits and spurts. For Safu, this is one of those random peaks on the road to recovery. When you're in a valley, it may seem as if the things you learned when you were in a moment of clarity are wrong or not real anymore. But that isn't true. Any realisation you have come to that gives you hope is a valid and worthy thought, and you shouldn't immediately dismiss it. Your feelings may be bad and overwhelming, but a spark of hope, no matter how small, can turn into what ultimately becomes your freedom. That is why you should never dismiss hope out of hand, even if you have been disappointed before.   
> Please don't box and fence yourself in. Face what you're afraid to admit, like Safu did. When you're ready, you'll be able to handle it. I promise.


End file.
